


Never far from hospitals (What does that tell you about me?)

by BrotherRyan



Series: whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Accidents, Bathing/Washing, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Female Peter Parker, Fluff, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, I'm not sorry I don't like interpersonal conflict, Minor Character Death, Mission Gone Wrong, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Penny Parker - Freeform, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Robbery, Vomiting, Whumptober 2020, everyone in this verse is friends, gender swapped Peter Parker, what's a timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26831638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrotherRyan/pseuds/BrotherRyan
Summary: “You don’t want to do this, sir I swear.”That didn’t feel like the right thing to say, but she’d seen more than her share of episodes of Criminal Minds, and it’s not like Shield was super big on providing de-escalation training to enhanced individuals, to junior-varsity avengers they didn't even know existed. She was doing the best she could with what she had.“Kid, you have no fucking clue what I want to do,” He sneered back.or, genderswapped Peter Parker in a pick who lives scenario involving a bank robbery gone wrong
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Penny Parker and Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Series: whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950910
Comments: 14
Kudos: 72





	Never far from hospitals (What does that tell you about me?)

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends. am i late? yes. did we expect something more from me? i hope not. i feel like i've set the bar nice and low. anyways hope u all are well, i made u this. the title is from souvenir by boygenius because i would marry phoebe bridger's voice if i could. also rated t because violence and the fuck word. also i did not proof read as per the usual, so sorry about that kind of. enjoy :)))))

“ _Pick_.”

He said, his voice disturbingly frantic as he waved the gun between the two hostages sitting tied to chairs in front of Penny. 

She was shackled herself, tied to a metal post with thick vibranium handcuffs and bands that fastened too tight around her protesting ankles. An equal thick band wrapped around her throat, making it difficult to swallow, difficult to breathe. 

The only reason she was in this mess in the first place was because she and Ned had disabled the tracker in her suit. All she’d wanted to do was help, and Mr. Stark had said no. He had tried to keep her from doing what she needed to do. And so what she’d run into a bank robbery. So what? She did that all the time. People were always trying to steal. Usually, though, the people doing the robbing, didn’t come equipped with anti-enhanced technology like the restraints that held her now. Usually, they didn’t drag her into a vault and secure her to a column after shooting her with some kind of high intensity taser. Usually, she wasn’t expected to save the hostages while simultaneously becoming one herself. 

And now, with her mask viciously stripped from her face, there was no way for her to contact Ned. No way for her to get a message out that she was in trouble, that she _desperately_ needed backup. But they’d figure that out eventually, right? Because she had gotten the message about a robbery in progress. The police were probably out in the parking lot, staging and planning and working out the best options with the least possible collateral, right? And when they realized there was something _wildly_ abnormal about this robbery, someone would contact Shield, who would contact Mr. Stark, right?

And sure, he’d be _angry_. Mad as all hell, more like, but it would be better for him to be upset with her for being a delinquent with good intentions that it would be for him to be mad at himself at her funeral, right? She held onto that thought as she tried to stall some more, to buy more time for the two poor women sitting across from her, shaking in their duct tape restraints. 

“You don’t want to do this, sir I swear.” 

That didn’t feel like the right thing to say, but she’d seen more than her share of episodes of Criminal Minds, and it’s not like Shield was super big on providing de-escalation training to enhanced individuals, to junior-varsity avengers they didn't even know existed. She was doing the best she could with what she had. 

“Kid, you have no fucking _clue_ what I want to do,” He sneered back. 

The way he held the gun was unnerving. It was too loose in his grasp like he was too comfortable with holding it, but not comfortable with shooting it. His finger rested outside the trigger box, which was nice at least. At least she thought that was nice. It had been a minute since her last gun safety lesson and honestly, she wasn’t a huge fan.

The woman on the right started crying then, the sounds of her sobs muffled by the strip of metallic gray tape that had been haphazardly slapped across her mouth. She looked friendly, like a mom. Her home-dyed hair was tied into a low bun, and if Penny thought about it, which she was trying not to do, it seemed like maybe she’d had glasses on before. If she had been wearing them though, maybe it was good that she wasn’t now. Maybe, if these were going to be her last moments alive, she didn’t need to see the man who was going to kill her with full twenty twenty vision. 

The woman on the left was less emotional. She kept her eyes trained forward, hard set and filled with anger. She had dark hair that was long and pin straight, hanging down her shoulders. She wore tall black heels and she seemed the type to really rock a red lipstick, which Penny was also trying not to think about.

It’s so much harder when you think too much about it.

“I swear to God, if you don’t pick one of them, I will shoot them both while you watch and then I will shoot _you_.” 

His voice was kind of irritating. Understatement of the century, right? But if he had been saying literally anything else, anyone would find the erratic and slightly pitchy tone grating. He sounded young, like a pubescent boy whose voice hadn’t yet settled into that low and even register. She couldn’t see him behind the mask, but if she had to guess, she would’ve given him high cheekbones and a face that evidenced a distinctly lacking skincare routine. 

“Come on, man, don't you have something better to be doing? It’s a Saturday, why don’t you go catch a movie or something? Maybe go out to a bar, you’re old enough to drink, right?” 

She wished she could take it seriously. It’s not like she wasn’t scared, you know? It’s just that it’s so much easier to fake being confident, it’s so much easier to pitch joke after joke after sarcastic remark after joke that it would ever be to be honest about one’s actual feelings. 

“Of fucking course I’m old enough to _drink,_ I’m not some- I’m not some stupid _kid_ , like you,” 

Okay, so he definitely wasn’t over twenty one, then, because people who _are_ get excited when you think that they might be younger. It felt like a little kid claiming to be six and a half rather than just six when some stranger asked at the supermarket. 

“Sure, dude, but you don’t really seem like you’re that old, and if you _kill_ someone today, you’re gonna end up in prison for _life_ and that is going to be a long long time if you’re not already pretty old.” 

Talking about his age wasn’t the best idea, but it was stalling, right? It was buying her enough time to save the two poor women that sat in the vault with her, right? 

“I won’t be _going_ to prison, idiot, because I won’t be getting caught.”

“Sure, you and your buddies probably had this thing planned out for a while now, huh? You’ve got one guy, _minimum_ , on security cameras, you’ve got guys collecting the other hostages, right? And we haven't seen any faces yet so there’d be nothing to report even if we wanted to. We couldn’t tell the police who to look for.” 

Something was going on outside, she could hear it. Maybe help was finally there. _Fucking finally_ , it had only been an _eternity_. She really couldn’t be mad at them though, it was her own fault for being where she wasn’t supposed to be, doing exactly what she was not supposed to be doing. But if she hadn’t been there, all the hostages would be in danger, right? Because there’d be one more crazy guy out there with a gun aimed at anything with a pulse. 

It was difficult to make out full sentences through the thick steel walls of the vault coupled with the brick walls of the building. There was a lot of interference. Cops were definitely there,maybe a hostage negotiator. That would be nice. It would be cool to have an expert at this kind of thing. Maybe if someone knew what they were doing, this wouldn’t have to end in a spontaneous crimson paint job over all the locked security boxes.

Fuck that was morbid. 

“Of course we were _prepared_. We’ve got this thing planned out to a T. We even expected you. We bought _special handcuffs_ just for your freaky ass.” 

“I see that,” She tested the restraints again, finding them irritatingly strong and steadfast. “So I’m just saying dude, why kill hostages when you have me all locked up? You could literally just leave and nobody would be able to catch you!” 

That was a tactic they used on crime shows a lot. She knew because MJ forced her to sit through hours and hours and _hours_ of Criminal Minds and Law and Order. They played up the guy's ego, told him he was smart, that he was in the right, and that made him so confident that he made mistakes. It happened all the time. How hard could it even be to inflate a dude’s self-esteem? 

The noise outside had gotten louder. So loud, now, that the man with the gun began to panic. She could see it in the nervous, jittery steps he took toward the two women in front of her. He picked up the gun again, holding the barrel of the pistol to the first woman’s temple. She was sobbing still, taking in great gasps of air that made Penny’s chest ache. It was obvious she was having a hard time breathing through the tape over her mouth.

"At least take the tape off, man," Penny reasoned "She can't even breathe."

It seemed weird when he complied. He didn't think too hard about it, just ripped the strip off unceremoniously, leaving it hanging from the end that was still stuck to his cheek. 

“Please, sir, I- I have kids, I have two kids and they’re just little- they- they won’t understand if I don’t come home- they’re- they- they’re too little to not have a mama.” Her eyes were scrunched shut, like if she believed hard enough, _wished hard enough_ , she would wake up in her own bed, like nothing ever happened. She would walk across the hall to her daughters’ bed room and see the two of them sleeping peacefully in their little beds. Like she could lean up against the door jam and watch for a second, take in the sight of them breathing, existing. 

The man appeared as frustrated as a man in a mask can before switching sides to point the gun at the back of the other woman’s head. She did nothing, except take in a deep breath and slowly shut her eyes. Somehow, it was worse. There was no begging, no last stand, only resignation. She would go out not with a scream, but with a sigh. This offered Penny no solace. 

“Choose right this fucking second or a I swear to _God_ , I will shoot them both.”

“Please, dude, you don’t have to-”

“You have until I count to three!” He shouted it then, which was jarring. The sound of it bounced off the walls and vibrated in her chest, bringing unexpected tears to her eyes. She blinked them away, not willing to show that degree of weakness.

“One!”

How the _fuck_ was she supposed to know what to do. She was in so far over her head. He was right, she was just some dumb kind. She should have listened to Tony, to May, to anyone. But she was _hard headed_ and _stubborn_ and when you’re not the oldest, they assume you don’t know anything at all. 

“Two!”

The sounds outside were constant, stagnant, there was nobody coming to rescue her. Nobody was coming. _Nobody was coming._

“Thre-”

“Shoot ME.” She screamed. The power of it astounded her, it shook her一 radiated from her. She was afraid of course she was afraid. Scared as all hell. But he would not get the satisfaction of knowing it. 

“ _Shoot me_.” She said, steadying her gaze on him, unflinching, unmoving. 

She could see the gears turning in his head, she could see him thinking her offer over. She watched as he brought the gun straight upward, leveling the gun between her eyes, both hands holding it up, one finger resting on the trigger. 

The woman was still crying.

“Close your eyes,” Penny whispered, looking over the man’s shoulder. If she was going to die, she didn’t need an audience. She didn’t need to further traumatize these two women, she didn’t need to add to that load.

Just then, there was an explosion outside, shaking the walls and jarring everyone in the room. The woman in hysterics was silent then, but she was still shaking, with her eyes clenched shut tight. The other one was shaking now, but she looked like she was trying to hide it. She kept her eyes open, pupils blown, dark brown eyes staring directly at Penny. 

The masked man went to the door of the vault then, peering around the door frame, the gun held upward, close to his chest, trying to gauge the severity of the situation. It was hard to tell from where he was standing, it’s not like he could see the door of the bank from there, and it’s not like he could very well leave the vault, not with Spiderman- er- girl? And the hostages. 

Penny shut her eyes, blocking out her vision in an attempt to tune into the sounds outside the bank. It felt like turning down the radio when you’re lost in your car or you need to parallel park somewhere. There were a few distinct shouting voices, one woman screaming bloody murder, like maybe she’d been injured in the blast. There were cops yelling directions, trying to get people to stand back, trying to clear out the street. There was a rumbling noise, like maybe a military grade vehicle, getting closer and closer by the second, the sound of it growing in volume with each heartbeat.

It only took a moment for her to recognize the sound as Tony’s repulsors. So he _was_ coming after all. If she survived this, maybe she wouldn’t even mind how mad he would be. Maybe she wouldn’t even care if he took her suit for good. Maybe she wouldn’t care if he never even spoke to her again for how she disobeyed him. 

Maybe, but probably not.

She could hear his voice then. She could picture him lifting his faceplate for the debriefing he was surly receiving form some captain or another. She could see the way he clenched his jaw, closed his eyes for a split second when he heard that she’d gone in but hadn't come back out. She could just see him, the anger boiling up in his stomach. He’d be worried, too, she knew, and she knew that that was the basis for the anger in the first place. If he didn't care about her, he _wouldn’t_ care if she got hurt. 

He heard him start to make the plan, but it was really hard to separate what he was saying from all the background noise, like radio static. Captain America was there too, that was odd. He didn’t usually do bank robberies right? But then again, neither really did Tony, and here he was. Spiderman was the one who was _built_ for this kind of thing, not either of them. But, when you fail, you fail and they have to send in whoever they have on hand as backup. She was almost as sorry to have bothered them as she was grateful that she had. 

They must have come to some kind of conclusion, though, because there was a huge crashing sound as the glass at the front of the bank shattered. People were screaming and Captain Rogers was yelling directions, telling them to head for the street, to meet up with the ambulances parked there if they needed medical attention. Tony fired a couple shots from his suit at, presumably, the rest of the robbery team.

They were going to be fine. Tony was going to come in, knock that guy down, no problem and he was going to get these two women out. The one was going to go home, to see her kids, to see her husband. The other was going to go home too, to whomever, whatever, she loved. They were both going to live long, happy lives, because Tony was there and he could fix anything. That’s what mechanics do, that’s what engineers do, that’s what Tony _does_. 

She opened her eyes again and was greeted by the sight of the masked man bouncing every so slightly on the balls of his feet, like maybe he’d realized the mistakes he’d made. Like maybe he was wishing he was back home, too. He was facing them again, in a split second though, making up his mind about what he wanted to do.

He stood behind the hostages, facing Penny, raising the gun to point at her again, like he’d been doing before. He was breathing slow and deep, calming himself down and bringing back that same sort of brash conviction he’d had before. And he stood like that for the thirty seconds it took for Ironman, in all his glory, to come to the door of the vault. 

“Hey, guys, how are things going in here?” He asked sarcastically, doing his best to mask the panic he could feel rising in his chest at the sight of a hand gun trained on _his kid_.

“Stark,” The masked man spoke without moving an inch, without even looking away from Penny, 

“That’s me,” Tony replied easily, “You mind letting me in on this little plan you've got going?” 

“You have to let me out.” He said blankly, unmoving still.

“Come on man, _that’s_ the best you’ve got?” 

Penny just really wanted him to shut up. Shut up, shut _up,_ Mr. Stark. That is _not_ how they do things on Criminal Minds. They do not make fun of the guy with the gun. That feels like a pretty universal thing, but Tony had _bigger guns_ , greater power, and apparently, a whole lot more confidence. 

“You let me out of this, or I swear to _God_ I will shoot her,” 

That got Tony’s attention.

“Can’t let ya’ do that, big guy, you see, she might be a colossal pain in the ass, but she does do important work, so we do kind of need her around here.” 

The disaster of it really went down in three parts. 

First, Captain Steve Rogers came running down the hallway, chasing after a man wearing a mask that matched the one concealing the identity of the man in the vault. It was loud, the sound of each set of footsteps sprinting against the tile, big combat boots echoing across through the building. When Steve finally caught up to him at the dead end, a locked door, they could hear the fist fight that ensued, the grunting and sound of fists hitting flesh, the screaming that followed when the captain snapped the robber’s zygomatic arch through the thick fabric of the mask. Somehow the silence that followed was even louder.

Part two was his breaking point. He wasn’t getting out of this and he knew it. Penny could almost see it through what little she could make out of his eyes through the slits cut in the mask. The scream that tore from her throat provided just a split second warning before he was squeezing his pointer finger against the trigger. 

Tony must have sensed it too because he slammed his body up against him, knocking him off balance, but not before he could initiate part three. The bullet that was meant for Penny shot through the air, too fast to see. The carnage was immediate, a bloody explosion decorating the room in deep crimson with such speed that if you’d blinked, you might have missed what happened. The masked man’s head had hit the white tile of the floor on the way down, leaving him unconscious on his back. 

His hands were on her in an instant, trying to block the flow where it still spilled from her neck, holding pressure to it with one hand as he undid her restraints with the other.

“I’t alright, you’re gonna be just fine,” He lied easily, through his teeth. As he lay her on the ground, his gauntlet covered hands slippery with blood, she gasped, sputtering, choking on the stuff as it flooded her lungs, her mouth. 

“Alright, honey, you’re okay, I know, it’s okay though, you don’t need to worry about a thing,” 

She was gone before he even finished the sentence. 

He sat in silence for a moment, staring at her body, before some whimpering in his periphery brought him back to the other two people in the room. The woman directly to the side of him still had her eyes clenched shut, her bound hands balled up into fists. There were tears running down her face, and from the looks of it, she’d been crying for some time. Her lip was trembling, like maybe she wanted to scream, to get help, but she wasn’t sure she could. 

Steve came running back into the room, then, eyes widening at the scene before him. 

“One casualty,” Tony spat the words out like they were poison. There was a far off look in his eyes, when the faceplate retracted again, but he shook it off in a second to focus up again. Compartmentalization, his therapist had called it, his uncanny ability to separate himself from what was going on in the moment. It’s the brain’s way of protecting itself from feeling too much all at once. _Without it_ , she’d said during one session, _you’d go crazy_. He’d laughed it off, _I’m already crazy_ , he’d said.

Steve’s hand was on his shoulder then.

“I’ve got this one, Tony, you go get _her_.” 

He shook his head rapidly, like he was still trying to clear the image out of his mind. Then, for the first time, he dared glance across the room. 

Penny sat rigidly in her chair, her eyes stuck wide open, completely soaked in blood. Her breaths were coming out in gasps. She wasn’t crying yet, but she would be soon, for sure. 

Carmine splatters coated her unmasked face, it clumped her hair together, it dripped down the front of the suit, spilling down her front and _drip, drip, dripping_ down to the floor. The sheer volume of the stuff was incredible. 

“Pen,” He started, but he didn’t have anything to say. What words would even suffice to comfort a _child_ who had just witnessed such brutality,

Instead he cupped a had to her cheek.

“You hurt, kid?” He asked softly.

She shook her head roughly, quickly, her eyes and mouth never closing. She was staring at the body, he knew. It was horrible to look at really, the woman lay on her back less than a foot away from where she was sitting, the gaping hole in her throat still sluggishly leaking out onto the floor. Her empty eyes started directly back at Penny, the fear in them extinguished with the life that had once coursed through her body. The ID tag she’d had clipped to the bottom of her neat black blazer was now plainly visible, _Dana, Human Resources Department._

“Close your eyes for me, honey, he whispered as he went around behind her and began the work of picking the vibranium locks that held her upright. 

Steve was holding the other woman upright, one hand around her waist, the other on her elbow, guiding her out of the vault. Her eyes were still closed, but Penny didn’t notice, and even if she had, what solace could she possibly get from the knowledge that she’d taken her advice? 

Someone was dead because of her. 

She _had_ chosen, after all.

Tony collected her in his arms then, somehow, he had the suit back on. It was hard to focus on anything, hard to bring herself to think about anything other than the image of that woman, ingrained into her mind like a brand. She was numb. 

He pressed her face into the armor that covered his chest, holding her tightly against him as he walked out of the vault, leaving her in there. He was leaving her in there _with him._

She tried to tell him not to, that she didn’t deserve that, that they had to bring her body out first. She had a family, she’d had people who loved her. She didn’t deserve to be in there like that with her eyes open and staring into nothing. She wasn’t supposed to die today. _She wasn’t supposed to die._

All that came out was half a strangled scream, muffled by the armor. 

“I know kid, I’m sorry,” Tony said, glazing down at her. “We’ll get you home.”

She didn’t deserve to go home. Not when Dana wasn’t going to get to. She shut her mouth then, grinding her teeth together as the metallic taste of blood danced across her tongue from where it had landed on her lips. 

“Hold on, Pen, we’ll get you cleaned up and then we can go to bed, get some rest, okay? That sound pretty good?” 

It sounded like he was talking to a little kid. She wasn’t a little kid. She was a _killer_. It was her fault that someone was dead today.   
  
When they landed on the balcony outside Tony’s own bedroom back at the tower, she was hyperventilating, the events of that day replaying on a loop in her brain. The tears started flowing the second Tony tried to set her down long enough to retract the suit again. She grabbed for him, scrambling from her place on the ground. Her movements were uncoordinated though, so all she really accomplished was crashing onto her knees and giving herself fresh bruises that would heal up again before bedtime. 

“Easy, kiddo, I know, I’m right here,” There was no anger in his voice. That wasn’t right. He should be pissed at her for sneaking out and he should be pissed at her for letting someone get hurt. He should hate her and the idea of it had her wanting to scramble away. She was melting into him again, though, the second his hands found hers. 

“Lets go get cleaned up, yeah?” There was a hint of a smile across his face, like he was trying to calm her down. It almost worked. Almost. 

She opened her mouth to day something, her tongue quickly darting between her lips where they were cracked and dry from the flight. She was met with the overwhelming bitterness of Dana’s blood bringing a fresh wave of nausea coursing through her body. 

“Gonna be sick,” she whispered.

If Tony had heard her, he didn’t make any indication of it. Though, to his credit, when she choked on the vomit as it splattered across her lap, his only reaction was widened eyes, and a reassuring hand rubbing between her shoulder blades.

"Alright, Pen, get it all out, you’re okay, I’ve got you.” 

When she was finished, she was frantic again, pulling her hands through her tangled hair. Her breathing came impossibly quicker when they came back tinted red. 

They walked together to the en suite bathroom that sat through the double glass doors and the bedroom. She briefly worried about the stains she was surely getting on the light beige carpet, but Tony just shushed her as they made their way across. He never let go of her once. 

“Get it off, please, please get- get it off,” She repeated quietly as her uncoordinated hands scrambled across her chest as the spider emblem that would release her from the stickiness of the suit. The smell of it was just so strong. 

“Alright, okay, I got it, honey I got it,” Tony said, gently pushing her hands away. He tapped the emblem himself and the tight spandex like material pulled away from her skin with an audible whoosh. 

“Get it off,” she choked out again, her breathing hard, shoulders slumped like she was getting tired of holding herself upright.

“I heard you, kiddo, I’m working on it. Let’s sit you down, yeah? 

He softly pushed her to sit on top of the closed toilet seat, with her back leaning up against the tank. It took him a second to work her arms out of her sleeves and it took an even longer time to push the suit the rest of the way down her torso, trying to keep from getting anything on the bare skin of her stomach. He helped her stand up for the next part, guiding her hands to his shoulders so she would have something sturdy to hold on to as he worked the completely soaked material down her shaking legs. 

She gripped his shoulders even tighter, shaking as the cool air danced across bare shoulders and thighs. She was left standing in a black sports bra and black boy-shorts, which would have had her turning beet red with embarrassment if she could be bothered to care about anything other than the prospect of getting herself clean. 

“Step up, honey,” Tony said from below her, grabbing one of her ankles as she worked the leg of the suit off, one first then the other. When it was over with, he balled it up and threw it to the opposite corner of the room where it landed with an ungodly _squelch_. He turned the faucet on and measured the temperature of it with the inside of his wrist before setting the plug in the bathtub drain and letting the whole thing fill up with warm water. He helped her step over the ledge of it, to sit down against the white porcelain. The water came back rusty red and brown almost immediately, which had Penny whimpering again.

When he stood to leave, to give her some privacy to wash up, she screamed. She hadn’t meant to, she’d only meant to get his attention, but the sound was bright and loud and it bounced off the blue and white subway tiles like it had the marble inside the bank vault. 

He spun back around in an instant, eyes wide.

“You want me to hang out, kid? I can do that, no problem, no big deal.” He said, trying to maintain composure. He was uncomfortable, it felt like he was supposed to look away, avert his gaze, something. It didn’t seem like his place to see someone else so vulnerable, even though Rhodey had seen him in this same state a half a dozen times, minus all the blood, of course. 

She sat there, with her knees drawn up to her chest, choking on the sobs that ripped through her throat as she stared blankly at the faucet in front of her. She scraped her fingernails across her arms in a vain attempt to scrub off the blood without having to look at it.

“ _Off_ ,” She whispered “ _Please get it off,_ ”

Tony kneeled by the edge of the tub, his knees protesting the movement, and grabbed a washcloth from where they were stacked beneath the sink. He took a second to pump some body wash out onto it, scrubbing it around to create a lather before he picked up her hand. She let him have it and it went limp in his grasp and he washed the blood from her fingers, digging it out from under her nails so she wouldn’t have to see it again later. He repeated the process with her other arm, scrubbing every inch of her skin until there was nothing left. Everything he did was soft and slow, like if he moved too fast, he'd startle her. His fingertips moved like ghosts across her skin. 

He drained the tub, then, turning the faucet on simultaneously so that the water would be replaced. 

“Give me your foot, Pen,” his voice barely above a whisper. She flopped her leg down unceremoniously without blinking. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her expressionless gaze was far from an improvement. 

He washed up to her knee, keeping up with a litany of soothing phrases, offering whatever comfort he could think of. 

“We’ll get all cleaned up and then we can get a snack, alright? I know you’re not hungry, but that metabolism has got to be goin’ crazy, huh? We’ll get something easy though, you want some soup? I think we have some, but if we don’t I’ll have Fri order some and we can eat something before we rest, yeah?” 

She remained silent as he washed her other leg and didn’t make a sound as he grabbed fresh washcloth after fresh washcloth. She started crying again when he rested a palm against her cheek, holding her still so he could clean her face. It wasn’t sobbing this time, it was just a few stray tears trickling down to her chin, by which time they had already turned a sickening shade of pink.

“I’m so sorry, Pen, I know, kiddo, this sucks. I’m right here though, honey, I got you.”

He scrubbed her hair twice, rinsing it out with the detachable shower head. When all traces of Dana had been thoroughly cleaned from her skin, from her hair, Tony pulled the plug and drained the tub again. He wrapped her the biggest, fluffiest towel she had ever seen. If the circumstances had been different, she would have been amazed at the feeling of it against her. 

He dried her hair off with another towel, just as gently as he’d washed it, before leading her out of his room and down the hallway to her own. He pushed her to sit down on the edge of her bed, the navy blue comforter that Pepper had picked out ages ago, turning dark where it touched the damp towel. 

“Can you get dressed, kid?” Tony asked, mentally crossing his fingers. He loved her, sure, and it was obvious that he did, but he was already out of his depth here as it was. 

He let out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding when she gave a shaky nod.  
“Okay, I’ll be right down the hall, you yell if you need anything and I’ll be back in a second.” 

He shut the door quietly as he left, wanting to offer her at least that much privacy. Standing there in that hallway for a moment, listening to her shuffle around in her room, opening drawers and bumping them closed again, was almost relaxing. He took a second to clear his mind, take a couple deep breaths before going back into his room to survey the damage. He’d definitely have to call someone to clean up the balcony, but that was no big deal. The carpet was dyed a deep maroon in a few places, but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed. 

Tony walked out to the kitchen then, picking up a can of soup from the cupboard, _chicken and stars_ , he thought, how fitting for him. He prepared it in a glass bowl and placed it in the microwave before heading back up to Penny’s room to check on her. When knocking softly against the wood earned him no response, he spoke.

“Penny, you alright, kid?” 

She remained silent again, which wasn’t a surprise to Tony. She’d had an extraordinarily difficult day. At some point, they’d have to sit down and talk about some consequences for the hacking and sneaking out, but it could wait until she was slightly less _catatonic_. Everything could, really. 

He opened the door again, and the sight before him had him sagging his shoulders and letting out an audible sigh. 

Penny was laying curled up on top of the blankets, facing away from him. She was wearing her pink Hello Kitty pajama pants and a suspiciously familiar maroon sweatshirt that looked to be a number of sizes too large for her small frame. He moved around the bed to pull up the quilt that was folded at the bottom, draping it over her as she slept. 

“When you wake up, we’re gonna have a serious conversation about _safety_ and apparently,” He glanced at the MIT emblem that adorned the front of her chosen pajama top “stealing.” 

He took a seat at her desk, bringing out his phone, making a mental note to call May to tell her that he had Penny and that she was safe, but staying there for the night. He’d have to get a hold of Steve, too, make sure everyone else from the bank was okay. Pepper was bound to call him sometime soon, too, with some legal thing or another about leaving a crime scene before talking to the proper authorities. 

But all that could wait. For now, the only thing he cared about was finally breathing deeply, her tangled and damp hair hiding the evidence of tears across her face as she rested. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for making it this far! if u read this drop me a comment, or dont, but it'd be cool if u did. i love u, ur important, go wash ur hands and have a snack.


End file.
